Bright Shadow
by HarryPotter'sgirl17
Summary: Thorin, God of the Underworld, has had enough of death and isolation. Bilbo is only known as the Son of the Goddess of Harvest and is sick and tired of it. Thorin was only planning on scaring a few Mortals. Bilbo just wanted five seconds without someone hovering over him. All it took was one thoughtless act to throw the world into turmoil. One act to change their lives forever
1. Shades and Sunlight

_**Shades and Sunlight**_

Bilbo walked along behind his mother, watching as the Mortals gave tribute to her and the bountiful harvest that she graced with them with this season, their faces a study in joy and happiness as they laid their offerings in the temples that littered the city they were in. It was moments like this that had Bilbo wondering what it would be like to walk among them, to see what they would do if the son of the Goddess of the Harvest suddenly appeared in their midst...

Unfortunately, Belladonna was extremely protective of her son and rarely-if ever-let him go anywhere without someone watching over him; even with her steady and slightly intimidating presences beside him, there was still Fili and Kili off to the side, making their own fun as they kept rolling one poor Mortal's cabbage down off of the pile he had made, making him run after it again and again until Belladonna snapped at them to keep up with her and Bilbo.

Bilbo loved his mother dearly and understood that any mother would be cautionary with her only child, but some days it felt like he was living in a gilded cage, only to be let out on his owner's whim; even his garden, with its flowers and vegetables which were most definitely _not_ hiding a vicious murderer that would slit his throat as soon as he entered, was watched over by two imposing guards that refused to even speak to Bilbo when he tried to engage them in conversation. It was maddening, but no matter how much he begged, pleaded, and even sulked about it, Belladonna was firm; her son was to be watched over, day and night.

It was because of this suffocating overabundance of protection that Bilbo was certain that he had no friends; Kili, Fili, and everyone else that watched over him did not count, they were guards and not friends, and most of them were there only because his mother had ordered them to be... There were days when he wanted someone to talk to so desperately, someone to share his deepest secrets and laugh at inside jokes with, someone to help ease the oppressive yoke of his mother's security from his back, if nothing else...

"Such deep thoughts fill the mind of the Son of the Harvest, brother."

"Yes, so deep that he has not heard us calling him for the past ten minutes."

Snapping out of his reverie, Bilbo turned to see that Fili and Kili had quit their torment of the Mortal and were on either side of him, wearing twin grins at his look of surprise; as the Gods of the Sun and Moon, respectively, their dual personalities were very evident and it still threw the Gods a little that Fili, God of the Sun, was the quiet one who would be happy with a book and a secluded corner while Kili, God of the Moon, was the boisterous one that was the life of the party and had earned a tongue lashing or two from his mother for his behavior...

Oh, and that rumor about the Moon God being chaste? Bilbo was of the mindset that they choose the wrong brother on purpose, just to make fun of the Mortals that choose him as their deity of worship... The brothers certainly had laughed loudly enough when they had been told of that rumor, leaning against the pillars of Olympus as if their legs could no longer hold them, and only stopping when Frerin had called them to order.

"There he goes again..."

"Perhaps we should call over Belladonna-"

"No!" Bilbo all but shrieked, startling both brothers with the vehemence of his denial, yet he didn't care to sooth their nerves at the moment; he knew, based on prior experience in the matter, that as soon as Belladonna caught even the slightest hint that there was something wrong with Bilbo-real or imagined-he'd be whisked off back to Olympus so fast that you would think that Bofur could hear his mother's very thoughts. The last thing he wanted was one of the few days he was allowed to walk among the Mortals cut short because he got lost in his thoughts. "I was just thinking about gathering some flowers to celebrate the Harvest, you see, perhaps even making a banquet for my mother; you just caught me off guard, that's all..."

Fili almost immediately looked over to where Belladonna was listening to a farmer thanking her for the crops that kept his family fed and saved his daughter from an illness that would surely have taken her life if she had not eaten of the Goddess' blessed bounty, his expression one of worry and caution... so not really noticeable from his everyday expression, except for those that knew him well enough to tell the difference. "I don't know, Bilbo... Belladonna has strict instructions regarding you-"

"Instructions that include he should have at least one escort when he is away from her at any time," Kili interrupts, not even bothering to look in Belladonna's direction and already pulling Bilbo out of the marketplace and toward the hills surrounding the village, "Dear Bilbo will have _two_ on this little outing and they'll be with him the entire time, so why bother her with it when we know he'll be alright? Come on, Fili! Have a little fun for once in your life! You're a _God_, it's not like it'll_ kill_ you or anything like that!"

With a fond huff of exasperation at his brother's dramatics, Fili follows the pair out of the village and into the mountains, stopping briefly only to snag a few baskets to hold the flowers they will collect in, unknowing of the events that have already been set in motion, of the rumbling and shifting of their world going on right beneath their feet... A shift that would effect not only them, but all of the Gods and Mortals, perhaps in one of the most disastrous of ways...

* * *

Thorin was a rather darkly brooding kind of God, but then again, he _was_ the God of the Underworld, so that quite went with the territory he ruled over. The subject of his thoughts, however, varied rather dramatically and would have his fellow Gods and Goddesses looking at him in either wonder or utter confusion; that would have had him laughing if he were in the mood, but he was never much in the mood for laughter these days...

These days, when the hall of his palace were filled with the unholy screams of the condemned and the fallen, his thoughts were of the shadows that were his only companions and the days where the echoes of his own voice were the only conversation that he had... These days were of darkness and of death, lingering around every corner and stealing the breath from ones lungs much like a sudden plunge into an icy lake; instantaneously shocking and mortally crippling...

It was true, that amidst the broken and punished of his realm there was the Elysian Fields, where the brave and worthy were sent to rest after doing heroic deeds or proving themselves one way or the other to the Gods... Thorin had paid a visit or two to some of the Mortals that earned their right to be there, but every one of them seemed uneasy at his presence, as if he were going to announce that they had lost whatever right they had earned to be there and he was going to throw them in with the rest of his miserable lot.

Needless to say, he stopped visiting after that, unable to take the forced hospitality and fear that his status earned him; it was a God's lot, especially one with such a reputation as he, to be feared and hated by nearly all Mortals. What bothered him was that fear seemed to be held for even the_ dead_, and there were days that he was sick from the overwhelming monotony of it all, conscripting himself to his throne room as much as possible, weighed down with aversion so poignant he could almost_ taste_ it...

Raising from his throne with a growl, Thorin pulled his helmet from the dais where it rested and pulled it over his head, intending on riding through the hillside to give the Mortals a bit of a fright, to make them pulled their loved ones close, for to see the God of the Underworld was certainly a sign of a death to come... His helmet, curved and wicked like a raven's beak, helped that assumption along with a dark intensity that Thorin found he wanted on this bleak day.

Moving through his kingdom with the same silent stride as the shadows that clung to its walls, Thorin made his way to the stalls that held a single steed of the deepest black, a shade that almost had a bluish tint to it for the darkness of his color. Running a hand along the beast's side, Thorin readied his animal for travel, wondering at his lot and wishing that there was some way that he could change his life... Wishing, not for the first time, that it had been he and not Frerin that had drawn the beautiful Olympus, with it's halls full of life and laughter, as his kingdom to rule...

It was true that the Underworld was a land that had many riches, riches that even some of the other Gods had steeled themselves against their fear and distrust to barter with him for, yet there were precious few Mortals that dared to venture into the deep darkness of his caves and tunnels to coax the many brilliant stones out of the walls; there were even fewer that came back out again, because Mortals became careless in their greed, digging unwisely and sometimes too deep for the rocks to hold or did not heed the warnings that what they dug up might not all be diamonds and gold...

There was a reason he was known as both the God of Riches and Death.

His steed, almost as if hearing the dark direction his thoughts had taken, nudged his shoulder and made him give the animal a small smile that would have looked rather unusual on the God at any other time, but he allowed himself to relax around his horse, knowing that the animal would never tell anyone of his softer side... no matter how much Bifur asked the animal to tell him of Thorin's moods, nor when Balin tried to get the beast to carry him to Olympus against his will.

The beast was good and loyal, something that Thorin prided above all else, earning him the right to be the animal the God of the Underworld rode for both battle and pleasure alike; it was a well known rule among all the Gods that anyone trying to take anything from Thorin's domain did so at his own risk, the incident with the horse and Smaug a clear lesson on that showed everyone that he had earned his reputation among the Mortals as a man to be feared...

Mounting the creature, Thorin kicked the beast into motion, causing him to spring forward as if released from bounds; the steed also released a cry that might have caused many to cower in fear, but Thorin knew that the sound was more of joy than of rage, and it caused him to shout out as well as he prayed-as he did every day-that something would happen to make this day different than all the others of his rather long life, something that would block out the screams of the dying and the whispers that only seemed to come from shadows...

Little did he know that his wish was going to come true, and in a way he'd never expect.

Perhaps in a way that he would change, if he had the choice.

But that wouldn't make a very good story, now would it?


	2. Meeting Death

**_Meeting Death_**

Bilbo darted through the undergrowth, panting heavily and desperately trying to find somewhere to hide, the sound of his pursuer crashing behind him causing a frantic edge to creep into his movements and obliterating any stealth that he once possessed; it also wasn't helping him that he could tell that they were getting closer by the second and there was only minutes until they stumbled upon him, darting about like a startled rabbit, out in the open instead of somewhere safe...

That last thought is what gives him the inspirational push he needs, and Bilbo is off running for the outcropping he saw a little while back; the rock formation wasn't very big, but then again neither was he, and it would provide a perfect cover for him... more importantly, it would keep his pursuer out, due to them being larger than both him and his hiding place.

With another leap and scramble, Bilbo was squeezing himself into the small hole in the ground that he had found earlier on this little outing that Kili had suggested; at the time, he had simply seen it out of the corner of his eye, not really giving it much thought, not knowing that he'd be pressing himself to the earth underneath it in an attempt to make himself smaller as he agitatedly tried to slow his breathing so that he didn't give himself and his cover away.

The sound of heavy boots overhead stilled his breath entirely.

Pressed close enough to the dirt that he could almost taste it, Bilbo watched as the boots stopped in front of the hole he had burrowed into, close enough for him to reach out and touch if he so dared... They stood there for a few seconds, as their owner turned this way and then that, no doubt looking for him across the plains and not thinking-thank his Family-that he would stuff himself into such a little compartment in order to flee from them; not that Bilbo was intolerant of concealing himself in the dirt, more that there really hadn't been much time for him to hide...

Another heart pounding minute goes by and then the feet move away from his hiding place, allowing Bilbo to release a soft exhale, relief rushing through him as he slowly shifts from his cramped position, letting blood flow to pinched and pained limbs that have been hastily stuffed into an awkward-

"Gotcha!"

Bilbo _does not_ shriek at the sudden exclamation, sounding like a startled maiden in her first summer; but he _does_ jerk in surprise, nearly knocking himself out when his head collides with the side of the cave wall, and he has to deal with Kili grinning down at him with an almost maniacal air as he hears Fili running over from wherever he had been at the sound of Bilbo gaining a crack in his skull.

"What happened? Kili, what did you do?!" Fili's franticness would seem excessive to most people, but the God of the Sun had seen too much driving his chariot across the skies and knew that even the simplest of injuries could prove fatal, forgetting in his worry that they were Gods and not the Mortals that he normally looked over. Add into the equation his not unbiased fear of what Belladonna would do if anything happened to her son, and Bilbo could not rightfully get annoyed when he was dragged out of the hole he had been hiding in and as closely examined for injuries as he could possibly be without him disrobing.

"It's nothing, Fili. I was just startled because your brother decided to it would be a good idea to creep up on me." Gently pushing away fingers that were probing along his forehead, Bilbo turned to glare at Kili, who was watching the whole thing with the same grin he had given Bilbo when he had found the younger God. "Did you really have to scare me like that? Could you not have simply announced that you had seen me, instead of nearly giving Fili a panic attack?"

His chastisement only made Kili roll his eyes at the Son of the Harvest and for Fili to blush at the attention drawn to him, causing Bilbo to sigh as both of the brothers refused to look at him; there was nothing he could say now to get Kili to behave, with Fili being too embarrassed to say anything and it was well know that Kili's _own mother_ had a hard time reigning him in, so what chance did _Bilbo_ have? "Alright, never mind your need to frighten the pair of us, does this mean that it's my turn to be the Seeker?"

Fili smiled hesitantly at Bilbo's heavy sigh, no doubt happy that there wasn't going to be any fighting as his brother matched his expression on the dark haired man's other side, each a distorted image of the other as Kili shook his head and said, "No, I found Fili long before you decided to try to turn into a mole... despite the fact that you left a clear trail to where you were. Have you forgotten that your 'special skill' works even faster whenever you are startled or scared?"

Huffing, Bilbo glanced down at the sudden growth of assorted flowers sprouting at his feet, also seeing that Kili was correct when he pointed out the downside to Bilbo's little 'gift'; from where he had hidden to the rock he had rested against was a line of grass and flowers in much fresher bloom, as well as a more vibrant variety, then the others surrounding them. It was abundantly clear on where Bilbo had gone and now even Fili was laughing at the face he was making at the flowers at his feet, resisting the urge to kick at them, because he knew that it would do nothing except make the brothers laugh at him some more.

"Isn't that cheating?"

"Not if you know how to make it stop, which you do."

Kili's reply was prompt and just a little bit smug, making Bilbo sigh again as he conceded the God of the Moon's point; he _had_ been working on keeping his 'gift' from cropping up ever since he had walked into Dwalin's workshop to get a bracelet the God of Blacksmiths had made for his mother and was nearly knocked unconscious when he had accidentally turned the God's anvil into a Harvest Festival centerpiece because being around the burly Immortal had unnerved him so much...

The rest of the Gods had thought the whole thing was hilarious, which only served to make Dwalin madder, until Galadriel had to step in and sooth the God's nerves. Bilbo had no idea why the Goddess of Harmony had decided to come by the Blacksmith at that moment-perhaps she had sensed the growing unrest-but he was forever grateful that she had and that her presence made Dwalin forget about Bilbo long enough for the younger God to hightail it out of there with his mother's jewelry and his body intact.

Shaking his head to dispel the memory, Bilbo focused on the pair of brothers before him and smiled a little at the way that they both were looking at him like they were worried his head injury was something they might need to watch out for; out of all of his 'caretakers', the brothers were the closest he had to friends and he appreciated the fact that they looked after him, trying to make it so that he didn't feel as suffocated as he normally did when they weren't around... It might not mean much to them, but it was one of the few things that he looked forward to whenever he heard that the pair were visiting. "Alright, Fili, start counting and I'll try to avoid leaving hints this time."

Kili grinned wider and was off as soon as the words left Bilbo's lips, but Fili took a few seconds to give Bilbo one more look over; he was always the more perceptive of the brothers and had obviously caught some of what Bilbo was thinking on his face, but he didn't say anything when the Son of the Harvest just shook his head and covered his eyes to begin counting. Bilbo stood there for a few more moments, eyes scanning the open grounds around them before he, too, took off running.

There weren't many places to hide out here; most of the land was taken up with the villagers' crops and what wasn't farmland had been cleared in preparation for either new housing or expanding the fields when needed, but they had made due with the random stumps and gopher holes they could find, never once daring to go any farther than the rocky outcropping that bordered the land as if one of the Gods had designed it to protect this particular group of people...

Then again, given how happily and devoutly the townspeople had responded to Belladonna, it was entirely possible it was a protection from her and given gladly.

Looking at the surrounding outcropping now, Bilbo wondered why none of them had hidden there before; despite the fact that there were plenty of nooks and crannies one could disappear in, when they had first approached it and came up with the idea of hide-and-seek, it had been silently agreed that this would not be one of the places that they would hide. It struck Bilbo as odd that they should be so frightened of a small hill of debris and, in a move that would define the moment his life changed, he dived among the rocks and gravel as the pounding of his heart in his ears matched the rhythm his feet beat upon the earth.

Stumbling up and over the rough terrain with barely a disturbed pebble, Bilbo was a little disappointed that the only thing that lay beyond the rubble was even more open land that stretched as far as the eye could see, with only the forest surrounding it cutting into the view. Disappointed and a little grateful, considering the fact that he had no idea on what he would do if there _had_ been something lurking out here, so it was perhaps better all around that his moment of insanity had ended in nothing more than dirty feet.

Oh, how little did he he know that single moment would throw the entirety of the Pantheon into turmoil and almost make the Mortals rise up against the very deity they had praised so fervently just that afternoon...

Stumbling a bit as the Earth shifted underneath his shaky form, Bilbo took a few moments to get his feet back under him, as well as checking to make sure that his 'gift' hadn't given him away during his slightly mad dash... Aside from a couple new shoots of greens poking out from between a few fallen logs, there was not much of a trail to where he was now and he took the opportunity to look around for somewhere to hide that _wouldn't_ end up with a blow to the head, or even something that would let him win this time.

It seemed that he had been looking for only a few seconds when a shadow fell across his shoulders with a suddenness that had made him startle, but before he could turn around and applaud Fili for finding him so fast, a resounding snort derailed both his thoughts and his congratulations.

The snort sounding again was what finally made him spin on his heel, gaze immediately drawn to the sight of the beast first; a large, darkly colored warhorse that seemed incapable of stillness, shifting and flickering it's tail even as it stood there, towering over Bilbo's frame. It was making him shrink back a bit; the last few interactions that he had with similar animals had... not ended well and this one, with it's size and unknown temperament, was making him so nervous that it took a few minutes to realize that there was actually someone sitting astride the creature.

The first thing that drew the eye was that the rider was also wearing dark clothing, making Bilbo believe for a few seconds that he had been mistaken and had somehow stumbled upon one of the rarely seen centaurs, but then the rider's legs flexed and rectified that mistake; allowing Bilbo's gaze to travel up, up, _up_, taking note of the armor that flowed ebony sharp over his-definitely a male-form and ended in a exquisitely made helmet shaped like a raven's head that hid all but blazing steel eyes looking back at him.

Swallowing once, twice, and a third time when it was still too hard to speak, Bilbo was left in utter awe in front of the one person that would ever wear a mask that signified death and despair:

This was Thorin, God of the Underworld.

Bilbo had only seen Thorin a few times, each one only a handful of moments when the older God had traveled to Olympus at his brother's behest, and he had always been at the farther end of the hall when Thorin had shown up. It was plainly obvious how... _big_ the God was sitting upon a creature that was nearly as massive as he was, staring back at Bilbo as the Son of the Harvest tried to get his throat unstuck and give the expected greeting when meeting one of their own, no matter if he was startled by the elder God's presence or not...

As if the world was holding its breath, as if the universe knew what was going on even if they did not, there was no noise to interrupt the tableau between the two Gods; there were no birdsong, no breeze ruffling their clothing, and even the monster that Thorin was riding was stilled by the uncertain energy bounding in the gazes locked in a silent battle of wills. It was also uncertain what would happen when one or the other conceded, so that might have added to the silence that covered this small bit of open ground.

It was Mahal once more shifting the Earth on his shoulders that finally pulled the pair out of their impasse, making the horse that Thorin rode upon nicker and throw his head as Bilbo made his unsteady way to his feet, keeping his distance as he bowed and finally made the recognition that was due in situations such as this, "I salute thee, Thorin of the Underworld, Lord of Riches that tempt Mortal men; may the Elysian Fields forever shine and your coffers never empty. How may I help you on this grand summer day?"

The last part was added by Bilbo, almost without any thought on his part, and he tried to keep his surprise from showing; every God had their own greeting and Bilbo had learned them since the time he was young, but the offer of aid was something that he had _never_ extended, even to the more sedate of his brethren and he was unsure as to why he offered it now...

Thorin did not reply with the honored acknowledgment, nor did he comment on Bilbo's question; as a matter of fact, the darker God simply stared at Bilbo with a slight tilt to his head, only shifting as his animal did and no more, which was being to make Bilbo feel more than a little uneasy... more so when Thorin finally slipped off the monstrosity that he rode and started to stalk around Bilbo with that same look of dark interest in his eyes that showed up when Bilbo gave his greeting.

It's almost as if he's _judging_ the younger God, and the thought has Bilbo drawing himself up to his full height, staring back at Thorin with a defiant expression that seems to make the older God make some sort of noise that is too muffled by his helmet-which he has yet to remove, signaling even _more_ of his contempt of his fellow God-to tell if it was humorous or angry; nevertheless, Bilbo was sure that whatever the noise was and whatever it seemed to signify, it wasn't a compliment to _him_, that's for sure.

Bilbo was just about to open his mouth to demand that Thorin either openly apologize for his derision, or let Bilbo get back to his companions-and a good day to him when he does!-when the still, quiet God _finally_ shows that he is not make out of stone by sweeping Bilbo up from where he was standing, using no more effort than one would use to heft a sack of flour, and sets the younger God over his shoulder-legs well secured under a strongly defined arm-as he walks back over to his horse as if he were merely taking a stroll of an evening.

"Hey! What are you doing?! Put me down this instant!"

His protest doing nothing to stall Thorin, who acts as if Bilbo _isn't_ screaming right next to his ear, the Son of the Harvest decides to do the next best thing; feeling sorry for his companions when they realize that he's no longer simply hiding and is being kidnapped by the _God of the Underworld_, Bilbo inhales deep and begins hollering at the top of his lungs as he jerks his entire body in a rather vain attempt-**Frerin**! Is this God made of the rock that he rules over?!-to break Thorin's grip, fists beating just as uselessly against Thorin's broad back.

"Fili! Kili! Someone! Help!"

There is only the echoes of his own voice resounding back at him, causing Bilbo's stomach to nearly drop to his feet before he hears Kili and Fili's confused reply:

"Bilbo?"

"_Bilbo_!"

The cries of his fellow Gods causes the one holding him to let out a sound that is unmistakably a growl, his steps speeding up as the brothers' voices grow closer, his grip tightening as Bilbo's struggles become even more frantic in the knowledge that his rescue is only a few feet away... and that Thorin's monster of a horse is starting to nicker and fidget even more when he sees Bilbo heading toward it, no doubt picking up on terror that is slowly swallowing Bilbo whole.

"Fili! Kili! Hurry!"

A rumble comes from the statue holding him before there is a dizzying instant of movement that leaves Bilbo without knowing which way the ground was or where the sky had gone, settling only when he realizes that Thorin has mounted the monstrosity that he calls a horse, a stomp from one of its hooves leaving a crack be enough to swallow the village that Bilbo was in only hours before upon the ground. Bilbo's heart clambers up to his throat as he realizes that Thorin has started to lead his beast into this chasm and soon Bilbo will be lost to the Underworld, never to be heard from again...

"FILI! KILI! FILIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"

The last part of his cry is swallowed up by the thundering of horse hooves as Thorin's creature leaps into the pit at the barest tap of the heels from its master, and with no sign of effort at the added burden, it is speeding away through the caverns that seem to open at Thorin's will; all of this leaving Bilbo to twist himself in one last, desperate effort to see the sun shine before the groove closes over their heads and covers him in dank, cloying darkness.

Letting himself submit to the lesser shadow behind his eyes, Bilbo welcomes the unconsciousness that envelops him like an old friend...


End file.
